She sensed the restless hunger inside him, an urgency that hadn’t been there before. It was freeing, honest, and real. All pretenses were gone. Sawyer was giving her the purest, rawest, most basic version of himself, and she’d give him nothing less in return.
He began pulling off her clothes, his mouth leaving hers long enough to tug her shirt over her head, and then it was back, his tongue delving in deep, tangling with hers and then retreating to teasingly nip her bottom lip. Emma’s sure and steady hands failed as her fingers fumbled the trek of buttons down Sawyer’s shirt. He had her stripped bare in seconds and she was still fighting with his buttons when he impatiently ripped his shirt off, sending the last few pinging off the wood floor.
His desperation was like fuel to her fire, the ache in her core becoming unbearable as he quickly unfastened his jeans and dragged them down his thighs. She had no time to admire the thick rod of flesh standing tall and proud between his legs. With the grace and coordination Emma lacked, Sawyer slipped his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her up as he entered her with one hard thrust.
He swallowed her cry and fed her a low throaty groan. She clutched his shoulders, nails biting into his flesh as he fucked her against the door, each thrust hitting something deep inside her that she felt all the way to her toes. His pace was frantic—desperate—her need feeding off his as he chased their release.
Pressure built inside her, tensing in her core, as he repeatedly hit that sweet spot again, and again, and again—tearing an agreement from her throat.
“Yesss,” she moaned. “Right there… Harder.”
His response was a growled curse. Emma’s legs tightened around his waist as Sawyer drove her to the edge of sanity. She shattered, crying out his name as spasms wracked her body. With one final jarring thrust, he seated himself deep inside her and pulsing heat flooded her core, intensifying the pleasure lighting up her nerve endings.
She was vaguely aware they were moving. But then her world tilted and the mattress met her back, Sawyer’s muscular body blanketing hers.
“You’re so beautiful when you come apart for me,” he whispered against her lips, his husky voice thick with emotion.
Emma opened her eyes to find Sawyer staring down at her, a portion of his weight braced on his elbows. She smiled up at him, and his dimples made a rare appearance. It wasn’t often she saw him this relaxed. Sadly, it would come to an end all too soon. Their time together tucked away in the cabin felt like grains of sand slipping through an hourglass.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” He reached up, affectionately tucking a chunk of hair behind her ear.
“Nothing. I was just thinking about how fast twelve hours can go. It’s so beautiful here, and peaceful. I think I could stay here forever.”
His smile made her heart skip a beat.
“I think you’d get awfully bored after a while.”
“Oh, I think you could keep me entertained.”
A throaty chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I probably could. I tell you what, once this case is closed and your residency is finished, we’ll come back here for a little R&R. We can go hiking, we’ll kayak, and fish. We can fuck like rabbits…”
Laughter bubbled up from her chest. “Promise?”
“On my life.”
* * *
Sawyer woke to the incessant buzzing of his cell vibrating on the nightstand. Blanketed by Emma’s deliciously naked body, she was using his chest for a pillow, and he was hard pressed to disturb her. The room was black except for the sliver of light glowing from beneath the bathroom door used for a nightlight.
The buzzing started up again and he lifted his head to check the time on his cell—1:30. Snatching his phone off the nightstand, a familiar knot of dread settled in his gut as he swiped his thumb over the screen. “Hello,” he rasped and cleared his throat. Shit, he sounded like he’d been eating broken glass.
“Gerrard, is that you?” Cade asked.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“You asleep?”
“Not anymore.”
Emma began to stir and lifted her head from his chest. “Let me call you right back.” He disconnected the call without waiting for a response. “Hey, sweetheart, I gotta take this.” He framed her groggy, beautiful face in his hands and kissed her cheek before slipping out of bed. “Go back to sleep. I won’t be long.”
“It hasn’t been twelve hours yet,” she complained, rolling onto her side and giving him a glimpse of that delectable ass.
“I know. I’ll be right back.” His lips grazed her shoulder and he couldn’t resist putting a parting kiss on the delicate curve of her hip before pulling the covers over her. He snagged his jeans off the floor and was pulling them past his hips when his cell started buzzing again. Sawyer snatched it from the nightstand and headed for the door. “For fucksake, Peterson, I said I’d call you right back.”
“Is she as delicious as she looks?” the distorted voice crackled over the line. “Wait, don’t tell me. I want to find out for myself. I bet she’s a screamer. Does she cry out your name when she comes?”
Sawyer froze in the hall, his stomach bottoming out before a blast of white-hot rage shot through his chest, jumpstarting his heart. His grip on the cell tightened as he growled, “Listen, you sick fuck. Emma is mine. You stay the hell away from her or I swear to God when I find you, you won’t live to see a trial.”
“She was mine long before she was yours. She belongs to me.”
“The hell she does!”
“Tsk, tsk, Detective. No need to get all worked up over this now. There’ll be plenty of time to do that once I’ve settled the score.”
“Settle what sco—” The line went dead. “Fuck!” Sawyer snarled, quickly dialing 611 and placing a call to his cell provider.
After a series of automated prompts and button pushing, he finally got a live person on the other end. “This is Detective Sawyer Gerrard with the St. Paul Police Department. A call just came in on this number and I need to know if you can track the location of the caller and tell me the number it came from.”
“Let me see what I can find out.”
There was silence on the other end, and Sawyer started to pace while he waited for what felt like forever. Finally, the woman came back on the line. “The number is unregistered. We can’t track where the call came in from.”
The bastard must be on a burner. He thanked the woman for trying to help and then called Cade.
“Nice of you to finally call me back, Sleeping Beauty.”
“Blow me. You’re never going to believe who just called my cell.”
“Who?”
“The Good Samaritan.”
“No shit? How in the hell did he get your number?”
“That’s a good question.” And then an alarming thought crossed his mind. “I think that bastard might have gotten it from Emma’s apartment. I wrote my cell number on a business card I gave her. Will you head over there and check her place out? I got a bad feeling this guy is closer than we think.”
“I agree. That’s why I was calling you. Guess who was attacked tonight and is in the hospital—critical condition.”
Sawyer closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Who?”
“Blake Weston.”
“Shit! Did he see his attacker?”
“Don’t know yet. He hasn’t regained consciousness to ask him. I have some good news for you, though. I got a call from the sheriff up in Duluth. He saw the news story about the Good Samaritan and said he had a case about nine years ago where a young woman was found burned in her car. No idea if these cases are related, but it’s worth checking it out.”
“Yeah, it is. Duluth is a couple hours from here. You got a name and number for the sheriff? I’ll give him a call and drive over in the morning.” Sawyer began opening and closing drawers in the kitchen, looking for a pen and paper.
“The sheriff’s name is Thomas O’Malley. Here’s his number.”
Sawyer jotted down
the information. “Thanks. I’ll let you know what I find. Call me as soon as you get any news on Weston.”
Movement caught the corner of his eye and he glanced up to find Emma standing in the doorway. She had his t-shirt on, the hem hanging down past her thighs. It was sexy as hell. What was not sexy, however, was the frightened look on her face.
“Who were you talking to?” she asked, suspicion tensing her voice.
“My partner, Cade Peterson.” No matter what, no matter how messy this case got, Sawyer refused to lie to her.
“I heard you mention Blake. What’s going on?”
Sawyer exhaled a sigh and dragged his hand through his hair. “Blake was attacked tonight. He’s in the hospital. I don’t know any more details than that.”
The fear in her eyes hit him like a sucker-punch.
“How bad is it?”
“It’s pretty serious.”
“It was him, wasn’t it? The Good Samaritan?”
“We don’t know anything yet for sure. But yeah, I’m going to run on that assumption until proven otherwise.”
Tears pooled in those luminous green eyes, and the knot in his gut clenched just a little tighter. “I have to go back. I have to see him, to make sure they’re doing everything they can.”
“They are,” he assured her. “Cade is keeping me updated.” He gripped Emma’s shoulders and dipped his head so they were at eye-level. “Emma, you can’t leave. This could be a trap to lure you back, and I need to go to Duluth in the morning. We may have gotten a break in the case.”
“This is my fault. It’s just like with Matthew… I should have warned Blake,” she said numbly, making him wonder if she heard anything he said.
“None of this is your fault, Emma, and I don’t want you anywhere near the metro area right now. I understand you’re upset about Weston, but you’ve got to be smart. This guy is escalating. The bastard called me right before Cade. He’s making this personal.”
Emma tensed, her eyes growing wide with fear. He hated to scare her more than she already was, but she needed to understand the threat was real. The last thing he wanted was for her to go taking off back to St. Paul because of some misguided sense of duty to Blake Weston.
“Wha—what did he say?”
“A lot of shit I’m not going to repeat.”
“So much for twelve hours. We didn’t even make it seven.”
The sadness in Emma’s voice and the defeat in her eyes shredded him. Muttering a curse, he pulled her into his arms and held her tight. After a moment, her arms slipped around him and squeezed. “It’s not always going to be like this,” he promised. “This case is going to break, they always do.” He just prayed Emma didn’t break first.
Chapter 35
Did you hear about Blake Weston?
Hey, Mol. Yeah. I feel terrible. Do you know what happened?
Not really. I heard he was attacked on his way to his car after work tonight. Are you still up north with your parents?
Yep. Will you keep me updated on Blake?
Of course.
Call you when I get back. Emma sent the message and set her cell aside as Sawyer came into the bedroom. She tried to go back to bed, but sleep eluded her. She couldn’t stop thinking about Blake. Though he’d strained their friendship with his unwanted advances, she still cared about him, and the thought that he might have been targeted because of her made Emma sick.
“Who are you texting?”
“Molly messaged me about Blake. She’s just getting off work.”
The mattress caved to Sawyer’s weight as he dropped down beside her. He slipped his arm around her waist, tucking her into his side, and kissed her temple. “You okay?”
“Not really. I feel awful about what happened.”
“I know you do. I also know it isn’t going to help to tell you it wasn’t your fault, but I’m going to do it anyway. You can’t let that bastard inside your head, Emma. You can’t give him that kind of power over you. He’s trying to hurt you, to lure you into doing something reckless like going back to St. Paul. I’ve put a guard on Weston. Anyone comes around him that isn’t supposed to be there, we’re going to know about it.”
“Unless he is supposed to be there, working there. Isn’t that what you’ve been worried about all along?”
Sawyer’s silence was all the answer she needed. “I’m doing everything I can, Emma—aside from pulling guard duty myself. As bad as I feel about what happened to Weston, I won’t ensure his safety at the expense of yours.”
Her gaze flickered up to his, and the unwavering determination and devotion in his eyes made her heart beat a little bit harder. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Sawyer laced his fingers with hers and lifted her hand, placing a kiss on the underside of her wrist. “You’re not going to have to find out. I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart… Face it, you’re stuck with me.”
Relief and gratitude washed over her like a soothing balm as his mouth brushed over hers. It wasn’t the heated, I’m-going-to-fuck-you-up-against-the-wall kind of kiss he’d given her earlier. This was different. It was exploring, tender, and erotic—touching her soul, branding her heart, and claiming her for his own.
With grace that defied his size, Sawyer crawled over her and tugged her shirt over her head. He kissed the long column of her neck, the small divot beneath her collarbone. Goose bumps erupted over her skin as anticipation began to coil low in her stomach. Emma’s need for him that sparked inside her went beyond the primitive desire for release; something else was building between them—a bond of unbreakable ties.
Sawyer had told her before he’d taken her virginity that they were more than the tragedy that defined them, and he’d been proving it to her ever since. Though they were caught in a web of extenuating circumstances, Emma knew that Sawyer’s feelings for her were as genuine as his words. She was thankful for everything he was doing for her, but it wasn’t gratitude that had her in his bed or taking a chance by giving him her heart.
As much as she’d known of love at the time, she’d believed that’s what she’d felt for Matthew. But this thing with Sawyer… It was more powerful than anything she’d ever felt before. The speed in which she’d fallen in love with him was so dizzying she was beginning to wonder if she knew herself at all. Perhaps she’d reinvented herself into a mold she could no longer fit? Perhaps it was time to face her past, embrace her future, and reclaim the life that had been stolen from her. Was it possible that Evangeline Larson was alive and well after all? Had she been hidden in a cocoon of self-preservation that neither allowed her to heal nor grow into the woman she could have become?
In the sea of doubt and uncertainty, Sawyer had become her anchor. And even when the storm raged, she felt safe with him, trusting he would shelter her, protecting her from the monster bent on destroying them both.
* * *
Sunlight filtered through the bedroom window as Emma opened her eyes with a languid stretch. She reached for Sawyer and her hand connected with cool sheets. After a quick hunt for her clothes, she dressed and headed for the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. She found Sawyer sitting at the table with the file open, papers scattered around, and her yearbook in front of him. He was sipping a cup of coffee as he studied the pages, Sam lying on a rug near his feet. Neither of them noticed her right away, and she took a moment to appreciate the sight of her boys. I love them so much.
She caught Sawyer’s eye and he lifted his head, giving her a smile that made Emma’s heart beat a little faster. “Hey, you.”
She felt the rough timbre of his voice all the way to her core. “Morning.”
Sam lifted his head and lumbered to his feet, coming over to greet her. “Good morning to you too.” She scratched his neck and bent down to kiss the top of his head before heading into the kitchen.
“Lucky dog,” Sawyer grumbled teasingly before turning back to his work.
“Oh, come on,” she chided, coming up behind him and slipping her arms aro
und his neck. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of your dog,” she whispered near his ear, snaking her hand down the front of his shirt and softly dragging her nails over the flat disc of his nipple.
A half-grunt, half-groan chortled in his throat. The masculine sound brought a smile of feminine triumph to Emma’s lips and she kissed his cheek before heading to the coffee pot. “Did you sleep at all?” She grabbed a mug from the cupboard and pulled the carafe from the hot plate. After pouring a cup, she carried it over and refilled Sawyer’s.
“Thanks.”
His lack of response to her question was all the answer she was going to get. “You need to sleep,” she scolded him. “You can’t keep going on like this.”
“I’ll sleep when this case is over.” His clipped response told her he wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. “Besides, I rested a few hours.”
She decided to let it go and took the seat next to him, looking at the page he was studying. “How’s it going? Find anything interesting?”
“I’m not sure yet. Maybe. I’ve been going through the faculty list and they have Carl Edwards listed on the fax. It says he was a custodian, but I don’t see a picture of him listed in the yearbook or any mention of his name here. Do you remember him at all?”
Emma thought back, trying to jog her memory, but it was a blank. “Sorry, I don’t. I was a self-absorbed teen. To be honest, I wouldn’t have known the name of a janitor or recognized him if he walked up and tapped me on the shoulder.”
“It’s all right. Just think on it and let me know if something clicks. I’ve got to be in Duluth by noon. I’m meeting with the sheriff there. He’s got a cold case that has some similarities to the Good Samaritan killings. I’d like you to come with me.”
“Actually, If it’s okay, I was kinda hoping you could drop me off at my parents on your way there. I’d really like to be able to spend some more time with them.”
The Good Samaritan Page 21